


#1

by orphan_account



Series: little miscellanies [1]
Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: D/s, M/M, Marking, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-07-26
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2026806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>D/s, marking, the usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#1

”That’s too high. Someone might see.”

“I know,” Hoya says, and tilts his head in towards Dongwoo’s neck.

“Hoya,” Dongwoo says, and tugs him gently away by the hair. “You can’t. I’m sorry,” he adds, and Dongwoo looks miserable about having to tell him no, which starts a bubbling guilt in Hoya’s stomach. “No, I’m sorry,” Hoya says, and leans his forehead in to touch Dongwoo’s.

“Anywhere else,” Dongwoo says. “Anywhere, it’s all yours.” It’s what Hoya wants to hear, but he knows Dongwoo means it, can see the way his eyes are starting to go dark at the thought, so Hoya kisses him lightly and scoots down far enough that he can get his mouth on Dongwoo’s bare chest.

As he starts to suck what he hopes will be an impressive mark into the muscle right below Dongwoo’s collarbone, Hoya digs his hands into Dongwoo’s hips, fingers splayed and each pressing just hard enough for there to be bruises in the morning. Dongwoo wriggles a little under the feeling and hums happily. Hoya can feel Dongwoo’s restlessness seeping away, though, as he settles into the sensation and lets Hoya do what he wants. Hoya’s cock twitches, but it’s not urgent, secondary to the main event: leaving Dongwoo covered in bruises and marks and lovebites, completely wrecked and smiling.

Dongwoo still leers at him, though, when he feels the movement against his leg. Hoya glares and bites down into the skin below Dongwoo’s ribcage, hard and firm, worrying it a little with his teeth. Dongwoo gasps satisfyingly and throws his head back, rocking his hips in little starts against Hoya until he lets go. It leaves a solid bite mark, complete with individual teeth imprints. Hoya grins and starts in on the area around Dongwoo’s right nipple without ever touching it, teeth and lips and tongue dancing across Dongwoo’s pectoral.

“Pen,” Dongwoo gasps suddenly, and starts stretching out of Hoya’s grip. It’s not his safeword, and Hoya’s thrown and more than a little confused, but he loosens his hands, and Dongwoo wriggles far enough that he can grab something off Hoya’s dresser. He bounces back, sitting up and branding a permanent marker at Hoya. “Pen,” he repeats, beaming. “Write your name on me.”

Hoya sucks in a breath, staring, then gently plucks the marker out of Dongwoo’s hand. “Where?” Hoya asks, twirling the marker slowly between his fingers.

“On my neck. Where you wanted to before,” Dongwoo says. “It’s easier to explain if someone sees. We were fighting, or I lost a bet.” He’s thrumming with energy again, nodding a little frantically. Hoya likes the idea; more than likes it, is still trying to process the blinding image of Dongwoo not just marked but marked as his, indelible. He wants to bring Dongwoo back down, though, recapture the calmness and pliancy from a minute ago.

“I should practice first,” Hoya says. He places a hand in the center of Dongwoo’s chest and firmly presses him back down into the mattress. Hoya crawls up until he can straddle Dongwoo’s waist and uncaps the marker, Dongwoo’s eyes following his hands the whole time.

The marker doesn’t quite work on Dongwoo’s skin at first, catching on the first curve and making the thick downstroke a little jerky and uneven. Hoya gets it on the second character, though, drawing two perfect straight lines before shifting slightly to get the curve of the bottom letter directly across his nipple. Dongwoo hisses, but Hoya’s left hand is still heavy on his chest, and he stays still, breathing heavily.

The last character is easy now, and Hoya sits back to admire, but ends up watching Dongwoo stare at the writing, his neck craned uncomfortably to see ‘Lee Howon’ carefully emblazoned across his chest. He must feel Hoya watching him, because he looks up and smiles brightly.

“Now for real,” Dongwoo says, and Hoya shifts off entirely so that Dongwoo can flip over. He gets up on his knees, too, and sidles backwards until his calves are pressed against Hoya’s. He looks over his shoulder at Hoya, nods almost to himself, then turns back and bends his head. His hair’s a little long, but if Hoya brushes it to the side it opens up the expanse of Dongwoo’s neck, and Hoya just looks for a moment before leaning forward with the marker.

“Write Hoya this time,” Dongwoo says abruptly. “Please.” Hoya pauses with the tip of the marker resting on Dongwoo’s skin, then nods, even though he knows Dongwoo won’t be able to tell. It’s easier and faster now, with practice and the skin pulled taut by the angle of Dongwoo’s head. He blows on it to dry it when he’s done, and they both shiver.

Hoya places a gentle, featherlight kiss to Dongwoo’s neck right above his name, then to his head, and buries his face in Dongwoo’s hair and wraps his arms around Dongwoo’s stomach and feels the trembling from the effort of holding himself so still, and Hoya feels entirely content.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into Dongwoo’s hair, and Dongwoo says, “No, thank you,” his voice hoarse. Hoya laughs and snakes a hand down to wrap around Dongwoo’s dick. It’s a little too dry, he knows, but Dongwoo just moans and jerks up into Hoya’s loose fist. It’s only a minute before he’s coming, face lighting up as he spills on Hoya’s hand, and then he completely gives up on holding himself up, falling back against Hoya. Hoya places his dirty hand across Dongwoo’s stomach to keep him still, then thrusts against Dongwoo’s lower back. It’s filthy, in a ridiculous way, but it’s enough, and he keeps up little jerks of his hips until he’s biting Dongwoo’s shoulder as he comes.

“Ew,” Dongwoo mutters, but doesn’t try to move. Hoya snickers, then puts his clean hand back on Dongwoo’s neck. “Mine,” he whispers into Dongwoo’s ear, and Dongwoo nods once, firmly, and leans his head back on Hoya’s shoulder.

The next morning, Hoya is jolted out of dozing in his chair in the salon by loud voices. He blinks and looks around as they get louder.

“Dongwoo-ssi, what is this?” a stylist across the room asks. “Is it — I don’t believe this. Lee Howon!”

“Yes, noona?” Hoya groans.

“Get over here,” she says, but at this point it’s closer to a shriek. Hoya scrambles across the room, and draws himself up next to the stylist, who has brushed the hair off Dongwoo’s neck. Hoya meets Dongwoo’s big eyes in the mirror for a second.

“Explain!” she yells in his ear. Hoya fumbles then says, “We were. We were wrestling and he wouldn’t admit defeat, so I thought I’d. Remind him?”

“Teenage boys, aish,” she mutters, licking a finger and rubbing at the writing on Dongwoo’s neck. Hoya feels a thrill of pride when it doesn’t even smear, but the stylist screams.

“Is this permanent? Lee Howon, mark my words, come next concept, you will be bald.” She races off to find heavy-duty concealer, and likely yell about them, but Dongwoo is smiling sheepishly at Hoya’s reflection and Hoya can trace his name on Dongwoo’s neck with his fingers, and when he takes his hand away, it’s still there.


End file.
